


Perfect

by Elektra Pendragon (elekdragon)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton
Genre: Childhood, The Padawan Years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-06-20
Updated: 2000-06-20
Packaged: 2017-10-17 07:30:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/174386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elekdragon/pseuds/Elektra%20Pendragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Qui-Gon takes care of his young Padawan Xanatos after he gets into a fight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> I watched my nephew charm his way out of being punished, and it made me think of IndulgentFather!Qui-Gon and a young Xanatos. Special thanks to XaniMistress Lyta, whose untiring beta work is always a source of education (and amusement), and whose XanObsession has become my own.

Qui-Gon Jinn had been meditating in his room when a cold shiver of danger shook his spine. It shattered his concentration and nearly threw him to the floor with its violent suddenness. Almost immediately, his comlink beeped to life, and the Jedi Master knew it was bad news.

"Master Jinn," Master Vel Naron barked over the link. "Your Padawan has done it again. This time the boy had to be taken to the healers."

Qui-Gon felt a sharp pain in his chest, as though someone had pierced his heart with a lightsaber. "Is he all right?" he asked, his voice breaking at the thought of Xanatos being harmed.

"Your apprentice pushed him down the stairs! Thank the Force that he only broke his arm." Vel's deep voice resonated with his exasperation.

Qui-Gon felt confused for a moment, as though he and Vel were speaking two different languages. "Whose arm was broken, Vel?" he asked, sure that he had misunderstood the master.

"My apprentice, Ru'Cii, of course." Of course. Vel was more concerned with his own Padawan than with Qui-Gon's. "Xanatos," Vel spoke the name with sharp emphasis, "attacked him and threw him down the stairs."

Qui-Gon let out his breath, but the pain in his chest didn't go away. It wasn't the first fight his Padawan had been in during the past few months, but it was the first time he actually hurt someone. What he had thought was a simple phase of aggression was quickly turning into a dangerous situation. The next time, he may not be so lucky. Next time... it could be Xanatos who got hurt. "Where is Xanatos now, Vel?" Qui-Gon asked, his hands clutching the comlink as a spike of anger shot through his anxiety.

"My quarters."

"Tell him I'll be there in a few minutes." Qui-Gon shut off the comlink and stalked out of his room. His worry over Xanatos' safety was quickly turning into anger, and though he tried, Qui-Gon couldn't calm his racing thoughts. There was something happening to the boy, and this time Qui-Gon would find out what it was.

***********

"But Master, I didn't start it," Xanatos insisted as Qui-Gon roughly escorted him back to their quarters. His face was swollen, and his nose slowly dripped sticky blood onto his already red-stained tunic. His cheek was swiftly becoming puffy and dark from the blows he received during his fight with the older Padawan. The purpling bruise was a stark and startling contrast to his fair skin. Holding one hand to his bleeding nose, Xanatos shuffled his feet as Qui-Gon dragged him through the empty halls by his right arm. When his master didn't immediately respond to his protest, Xanatos planted his feet firmly on the ground and sniffed loudly as he shouted, "He hit me first!"

Qui-Gon glanced around the hallway, his face a silent apology to the two Jedi Knights that passed them, watching him with sympathetic eyes. Then he turned his attention back to his precocious Padawan, chiding the boy in a low voice, "It doesn't matter how the fight started, Xanatos. You should not have pushed him down the stairs."

"It was an accident. I was defending myself." The loud tap of a walking stick became loud enough to be heard over the boy's hasty words, and Xanatos halted his protests as Master Yoda approached the pair in the hallway. Qui-Gon bowed politely to the Jedi, but Xanatos pouted. He stuck his lip out and pulled irritatedly on his trapped arm, refusing to look at the venerable master. Yoda acknowledged Qui-Gon, but his brow creased in consternation at the pitiful sight of the battered Padawan.

"Hrrmmm. Again beating the Padawans, Qui-Gon Jinn. Warned you of this, I did. No good to us if resentful they are." The wizened features softened under Yoda's smile, amused at his own joke.

"No, Master," Qui-Gon answered politely, keeping his irritation out of his voice. This was no time for jokes. "Xanatos--"

"Very young he is," Yoda interrupted, his ears drooping as he stared at the child. "Angry he was." He looked deep into Xanatos' dark eyes, making the boy fidget nervously in Qui-Gon's grasp. Then he turned his piercing gaze to Qui-Gon, tapping the floor with his stick. "Need to be angry *you* do not."

"I wasn't angry, Master," Qui-Gon explained, but it seemed that Yoda wasn't listening. The ancient one closed his eyes for a moment, listening to the Force. Qui-Gon could feel Yoda's mind brushing past them both, going to a place beyond either Master or  
Apprentice. Qui-Gon wanted to ask the master what he saw, why it was that Yoda always questioned what he did when it came to Xanatos, but he kept his thoughts to himself as he waited for Yoda to finish speaking.

Finally, the small Jedi opened his eyes. "Take care of him, you must. Fragile he is." Yoda patted Qui-Gon's hand once before he stepped around the pair and slowly walked down the corridor.

"Crazy old troll," Xanatos breathed in a vicious whisper under his breath.

The brief breeze of serenity the ancient master brought to Qui-Gon's mind passed away with Xanatos' flash of anger. Qui-Gon cared a great deal for Yoda, and he treasured his wisdom even if he didn't immediately understand it. Qui-Gon leaned down close to his new apprentice. "I know that your discourtesy sprang out of your anger, Padawan, so I will ignore it for now."

"But--"

Qui-Gon held up his hand. "We will talk about this in our room, Xanatos," he spoke in a low tone, anger biting at the heels of his words. "Now is not the time."

Xan sniffed loudly though the blood had ceased to run from his nose. Qui-Gon stood, and when he pulled on Xanatos' arm, the boy moved immediately, scampering to match his master's long strides.

***********

Qui-Gon and Xanatos remained quiet even after they reached their quarters. The moment the two walked through the door, Qui-Gon released Xanatos' arm and they separated; Qui-Gon stalked to the washing room and Xan ran to the commons.

As Qui-Gon wet a clean cloth in the sink, he pondered Yoda's words. *Very young he is. Angry he was.* How like Yoda to point out the obvious. Qui-Gon knew the boy was young. Though uncommon, it was not completely unheard of for a Master to choose a Padawan before the child's tenth birthday. He may be immature compared to the other Padawans, but Xanatos was quickly advancing under Qui-Gon's guidance. It was Qui-Gon's hope that these episodes of anger were connected to his youth and would disappear with age and training.

"Fragile he is," Qui-Gon whispered Yoda's final words to himself. That was a little less obvious. Though he had been bonded to Xanatos for less than a year, Qui-Gon was sure he knew his apprentice better than anyone. He hadn't thought of the boy as being fragile. Intelligent, yes. A leader, yes. A ferocious fighter, yes. But fragile? The boy was barely ten but he was already out performing Padawans two and three years older than him. Ru'Cii was thirteen, and Xanatos had escaped a fight with him with only minor injuries. Fragile? He wasn't sure what Yoda was getting at.

Shutting off the tap, Qui-Gon squeezed out the excess water from the cloth before he walked out of the bath. He stood at the entryway between the two rooms, observing his young Padawan. Xanatos was sitting on the couch, his arms folded across his chest and his feet tucked under the cushion. The couch, which was large enough to be comfortable for the tall master, nearly swallowed the child apprentice. Xanatos' dark eyes, one darkened further from an unlucky punch, stared blankly at the white wall. His body was stiff and still, but he breathed quickly through his nose. If Xanatos clenched his bruised jaw any harder, his teeth would shatter.

Qui-Gon gathered the Force to himself, using it to read his Padawan's emotions. It wasn't exactly anger he sensed, but it was something close to it. Something that was affecting him deeply. These couldn't just be pre-pubescent growing pains, it had to be something else.

Observing his Padawan's emotions helped Qui-Gon to understand his own. Anger, fear, disappointment, worry. Affection. Tolerance. Understanding. He had been upset to hear about Xanatos' fighting. This time, the other boy had been injured. True it was a minor injury, and Ru'Cii would be back to normal in a few weeks, but that wasn't the point. Xanatos' violent tendencies were dangerous. Next time, Xanatos could be the one lying unconscious at the bottom of the stairs. That was something Qui-Gon could not let happen.

It was his duty to protect his Padawan, as well as the rest of the Temple. Xanatos had such great potential; already his command of the Force was strong, and his lightsaber skills years ahead of his age. If his anger was allowed to continue, it would lead only to destruction, the Dark Side. Since it wasn't going away on its own, it was time for Qui-Gon to step in and find out what was causing Xan's anger. The Jedi would lose much if they lost Xanatos.

Walking over to the couch, Qui-Gon loomed high above the boy like a vulture, his face a calm mask of concealed displeasure. Xanatos pointedly ignored his presence by turning his face away, his nose wrinkling in distaste. Qui-Gon felt his earlier anger rise again, and Xanatos met his master's anger with his own, settling deeper into the cushion as his arms hugged his chest tightly.

*Need to be angry *you* do not.*

Qui-Gon could hear Yoda's wise voice in his mind as clear as he had in the hallway. Yoda was right; anger was leading them nowhere. Taking a deep, relaxed breath, Qui-Gon pushed his fiery emotions aside and concentrated on finding his center. Repeating Yoda's words in his mind like a meditation recitation, Qui-Gon felt serenity, like cool water, calm his mind. He would confront his irate Padawan with a master's serenity, not with the anger he displayed in the halls. Qui-Gon had no need to be angry.

Qui-Gon knelt on the floor in front of the couch so that he was on eye-level with the boy, but Xan refused to look at him. The sapphire eyes remained fixed on the distant wall, rudely ignoring the man kneeling before him.

"Xani," Qui-Gon used the nickname he had given Xanatos when he first brought him to the Temple. His apprentice blinked at the almost-forgotten endearment, but didn't acknowledge Qui-Gon's presence. "Xani, tell me what happened." His smooth voice, modulated to sound kind and assuring, did not have the desired affect on Xanatos. Qui-Gon stifled a long-suffering sigh. Xanatos was a headstrong boy and would talk when he felt like it. Forcing the issue at this point would only drive Xan deeper into his bad mood.

Xanatos refolded his arms around his chest, giving Qui-Gon a quick flash of red on his moon-pale hand. The movement was fast, but it was enough for the Jedi Master to see that the glowing white of his skin was broken by a line of crimson blood along his knuckles. Xanatos was injured from the fight beyond the few bruises he had at first noticed. Qui-Gon had been too angry to see the scrapes on his hand until now. He had brought the cloth to clean his bloodied nose, now no longer dripping, but that minor injury could wait.

Infinitely more gently than he treated Xanatos in the hallway earlier, Qui-Gon pulled the boy's hand away from his chest. Xan fought briefly to keep his arms folded, but Qui-Gon's greater strength and stern look won the short fight. He shook his head in disapproval as he uncurled Xanatos' tight fist, examining the line of drying blood--both his and the other boy's--staining the back of his hand.

Xanatos' tiny hand nearly disappeared in Qui-Gon's grasp. The pale flesh stood out sharply from Qui-Gon's darker tan as he began to carefully clean the abrasions with the dampened cloth. The boy stiffened when he scraped against a sensitive cut, but Xanatos held his head high, his tongue silent and his chin stiff. He had spent more time at the Temple than he had with his father, but Xanatos still held an inborn nobility that no amount of training could take from him. He carried himself as though he were a prince in servant's clothing rather than a Jedi-in-training.

Qui-Gon tenderly squeezed the tiny fingers in his palm in silent reassurance as he patted away the crusted blood. Not only did Xanatos' aristocratic poise made him an easy target for the older boys, but also his ethereal figure made him appear deceptively vulnerable to those who were insulted by his snobbery. Though callused from 'saber training, the boy's long-fingered hands were delicate and tapered down to thin, but strong, wrists. Xanatos' space-black hair only served to make his milky skin appear all the more translucent, and his finely shaped face reflected the lanky build of the rest of his small body. There was nothing threatening in Xanatos' appearance, nothing that spoke of the strength hiding under the surface. The apparent fragility in his body belied a powerful mind and Force-sharpened reflexes. The fingers that felt like sculpted glass in Qui-Gon's palm could break someone's wrist just as easily. Even for one so young and small, he was trained to become a Jedi Knight and had already proved he was capable of taking care of himself.

The scrapes on his knuckles were small, and now that the blood was wiped away from them, Qui-Gon determined that they didn't need further medical attention. Xanatos' knuckles would heal quickly and leave no mark of this incident on the boy; however, on his heart there would be a different mark that could not be as easily wiped away. If the frequent fights were any indication, Xanatos was having a tempestuous time adjusting to his newly acquired apprentice status. Whatever was disturbing his serenity was only made worse by the tensions between him and his fellow Padawans. The assistance and support of one's peers is one of the many things that made the Jedi great. If the other students were not willing to accept him as a fellow Padawan--as an equal in training and skill--then the formidable road Xanatos traveled as a Jedi apprentice would be made even more arduous.

*Very young he is.*

Xanatos was young, but Qui-Gon was sure that he had not been mistaken to take him as a Padawan so soon. Though it was true that not every Force-adept was cut out to become a Knight, Qui-Gon had no doubt that Xanatos would become the best Jedi the Temple had seen in years. Yoda may have questions about the youthful apprentice, but Qui-Gon had faith in the Force that brought them together, and in the potential he sensed in Xanatos.

Putting down the blood-stained cloth, Qui-Gon held Xanatos' injured hand between his two large palms. Together, his hands completely encased Xan's little hand. Looking up into his Padawan's bruised and unhappy face, Qui-Gon let the boy feel his affection as well as his annoyance through the Force. Softly, he said, "I am sorry if I hurt your arm, Xani. I was angry, but I'm not anymore. I am concerned. Why did you fight with that boy?" Xanatos shook his head, not meeting his master's eyes. Encouraged by the fact Xanatos was at least listening to him, Qui-Gon continued to ask questions. "Did he try to hurt you?" Negative. "Did you attack him, like Master Naron said?"

With a jerk, Xanatos' eyes met Qui-Gon's, but the hardness inside them had melted away. His entire body sagged a little as his fear and sadness broke through his facade of indifference, leaving him tired and shaking. The dark crystal-blue wavered as tears gathered at the corners, making Xan's eyes seem bright in the low light of the room. A blush spread across his cheeks as his lower lip quivered. "I didn't start it," he insisted, eyes burning with sorrow and sincerity.

"I know that," Qui-Gon quickly assured his apprentice.

Xanatos sniffed. The blood had dried while Qui-Gon had attended to his injured hand, but now a different kind of fount was rejuvenating the dried river crusting on his top lip. The soft cloth served as a temporary handkerchief as Qui-Gon dabbed the wetness from his nose. "How did it start?" he prodded, dropping the cloth to the ground as he again embraced Xanatos' hand.

Xanatos sniffed several more times, then rubbed the back of his sleeve across his still-runny nose. Qui-Gon smiled at the gesture, but hid it quickly as he pointedly glanced down at the cloth. Taking a deep breath, Xanatos steadied his voice and choked out, "He called me a liar. I told him about my father, and he said that I was a dirty liar." The tears began to escape as Xanatos' voice picked up in speed. "He said you wouldn't want me anymore if you knew how I lied but I didn't! I was mad and I pushed him and he hit me and then we were fighting and I don't know what happened but he fell and please don't leave me Master!" Xanatos became desperate, and he laid his free hand on top of their joined hands, the tiny fingers digging into Qui-Gon's skin. "I won't do it again. I don't want another master, I want you. I know I was bad. Please don't turn me away!" His words degenerated into a series of deep, trembling breaths as his eyes shattered in tearful remorse.

Qui-Gon rose up from his knees and sat on the couch next to Xanatos. Releasing his trembling hand, Qui-Gon enfolded the thin boy in his arms. Xanatos turned his head so his bruised cheek wouldn't be crushed and rested his head against Qui-Gon's chest. Qui-Gon held him close for a few minutes as Xan's tears quickly subsided, the master's heart melting with every drop that soaked his tunic. No wonder Xan was fighting so much recently--he was afraid that Qui-Gon would reject him, and his fear angered him. When the boys would teasingly test his limits as they tested each other, it was to be expected in one so young that he would react with irrational anger. Their relationship was still new, and Xanatos was unsure of his position in his Master's life.

By the time Xanatos recovered his calm, Qui-Gon knew his student had already suffered enough; he couldn't find it within himself to berate Xanatos for the fight. Yoda was right--the boy was fragile at this point. He had yet to learn to fully control his anger and fear, and it was tearing him apart. Holding him even closer, Qui-Gon assured the young boy. "Xanatos, I would never leave you. You are my chosen apprentice, my Padawan learner. I will always be at your side, and you at mine, no matter what happens."

Getting no response, he carefully held Xanatos away from him so that he could see into his eyes. His face was bruised and tired, his eyes red-rimmed, but there was a happiness there. Surety. Security. "We are bonded together, and there is nothing out there that can break it. No matter what you do. Do you understand, my Padawan?"

"Yes, my Master."

"I know you feel frustrated and unsure of yourself right now, but that is no excuse to let your emotions rule you. You must control your anger and not allow anyone to disturb your calm. The Force will guide you if you listen to it, but first you must have a quiet mind." Lecture over, Qui-Gon embraced his young ward again, sending as much approval as he could to the small form. In return, he felt a wash of love and gratitude from his student. "I don't want to hear that you've been in another fight again, Xanatos."

Xanatos wiggled out of Qui-Gon's arms, no longer stiff and unyielding as he had been before. He looked up into Qui-Gon's eyes with complete sincerity and joy. "It won't happen again," he promised. Xanatos smiled, the anger and fear gone from his clear, midnight eyes as if he had flipped a switch. The fickleness of youth.

"See that it doesn't," he spoke gravely, but the boy's buoyancy was contagious. Tugging playfully on his short black braid, Qui-Gon smiled indulgently, satisfied that the matter was now closed. "Now go wash and change, then we'll discuss the matter with Ru'Cii's master."

Xanatos leapt from the couch, his steps light as though a weight had been removed. Qui-Gon smiled again at the retreating figure, pride filling his heart. How could anyone not love the boy? His charm and cleverness, his skill and willingness to learn. The perfect Padawan. After this difficult phase of adjustment, he would be back on the right path. In a few years, maybe not even a decade, he would be ready for his trials and would become a great Jedi Knight. Xanatos would choose a Padawan of his own, and the Jedi would be become even more strong for the addition of such a powerful warrior.

His perfect Padawan.


End file.
